


Not Nothing

by ellekay



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Kingsman Spoilers, Post-Kingsman: The Secret Service, implied/past hartwin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 17:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11926008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellekay/pseuds/ellekay
Summary: Nothing ever seemed to scare Tilde away, not the gun he wore or the stories he told or the mourning flame he held for a man twice his age who died in a church parking lot in Kentucky.





	Not Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> This is, somehow, the first fic I've actually posted for the Kingsman fandom. I wrote this in 3 hours in a fit of joy over how cute Eggsy and Tilde look together. Hope you guys like it!

“So,” Tilde began, watching her ill-advised lover carefully reassemble himself into his suit, “what is it that you do?”

Eggsy paused in the middle of straightening a cufflink to ponder the question. He settled on the safest answer he could think of.

“Afraid that’s classified love” he said with a wink. Tilde’s smile only broadened. That was enough of an answer for her. She guessed he was MI-6, but she had never met any secret service agent like him before. “Rescue teams should be here within the next couple of hours, but you should be safe til then.”

“Mm,” was all Tilde said, still smiling at him

Eggsy hesitated slightly, looking at her with a small smile. He wandered over to the little desk Valentine had so generously provided her, where he found a few pens and some stationary. He jotted something down in the neatest handwriting he could manage and brought it over to where Tilde was seated at the edge of the bed, straightening her top and watching him carefully.

“So, this is probably against regulation and a long shot, but what the hell. This is my number, if you’re ever in London.” He paused slightly and gave her a small bow of his head. “Your majesty.”

She laughed and took the slip of paper from him.

“If I’m ever in London, then, Secret Agent Man.”

Eggsy gave her a broad smile. He might not have been an official Kingsman agent, and he might have all of this taken away from him tomorrow, but damn if he didn’t just save the world and give a princess his phone number.

“Call me Eggsy.”

\---

To Eggsy’s immense surprise, Merlin scoured the Kingsman charter and found a number of rules that not only allowed him to stay on, but gave him the title of Galahad without the usual selection process. Point of fact, Merlin had made sure he got to keep virtually everything of Harry’s, citing “protocol” any time Eggsy asked him about it. He was pretty sure there was no “protocol” for the passing on of a pile of taxidermy butterflies, but he knew better than to question Merlin about something like that. It took him some time to get used to living in Harry’s house. His mum had refused the offer to stay with him, saying that there was quite enough room for her and Daisy since Dean had left. So he lived in Harry’s old house with Harry’s dead bugs and Harry’s dead dog, doing very little to change the place. 

Tilde, it turned out, did end up London, and managed to hang onto his phone number for a full six months after the Valentines Day Massacre. They went out for a drink at his old haunt, The Black Prince, and caught up as much as they could. It almost felt like a normal date, save for her body guards tucked away in a corner booth, staring at the points of ingress and egress over untouched pints of Guinness. Eggsy enjoyed himself anyway, listening to her complain about the political hellscape she was living in. She spoke passionately about her country and her people and spoke with contempt for those who had joined in with Valentine’s plot.

“Cowards, all of them. My only wish is that they could have been tried for their crimes.” Eggsy swallowed a little guiltily at that. “But enough about me, how is it with you?”

“Ah, not much I can talk about.” He said this with much less swagger than he would have six months ago. “That is, the er… tailor business carries on.” She smiled knowingly, and for some reason that was enough. He cleared his throat. “You, ah… you gonna be in London long?”

She looked him up and down appraisingly, smiling into her cocktail before taking another sip. “I’m still making up my mind.” Eggsy couldn’t help the broad grin that spread across his face.

“Well, it’s a good city. Lots to see. If you need someone to show you around, I am between… clients, at the moment.” He reckoned he’d be off assignment until the intel from his last mission in Brazil cleared, anyhow. “For a couple of days, at least.”

“Well, then, I think I can stay for a couple of days.”

Eggsy grinned.

\---

A couple of days turned into a week. Eggsy and Tilde took in bad theater and incredible food together, talking about things they shouldn’t and discussing their real lives. Eggsy talked about his mother and sister, and Tilde talked about her parents and her favorite places in the world. She slipped away to take diplomatic calls while Eggsy checked his briefs in the bathroom at odd hours of the morning. She gave up on the pretense of returning to her hotel after the third night. They kept it up until Merlin finally contacted him to tell him they’d broken the encryption and the intercept would be in Argentina in 18 hours. He took the call in bed while Tilde stirred next to him, looking at her own phone.

“Wheels up in an hour, Galahad.”

“I’ll be there.” He hung up and turned around, face already apologetic, to see Tilde giving him a similar look.

“Duty calls, I’m afraid. I need to return home.”

“I was about to say the same thing.” Eggsy leaned down to give her a kiss. She hummed against his lips, a sad little disappointed noise.

“This has been a good first date,” she murmured when they broke apart. Eggsy laughed.

“Wait til you see the second one.”

“You have my number now,” she smiled as she climbed out of bed, “call me when you are between clients again.”

“Oh, I will definitely do that,” Eggsy said delightedly, clambering over the bed to pull her close and kiss her again. She laughed and pushed him away to get dressed.

“I have to say, this house does not look like you live in it,” she said on her way to the bathroom. Eggsy started to get dressed himself.

“Ah, yeah, there’s a reason for that. Ain’t redecorated since I inherited it.”

“From who? Family?”

“No, he uh.” Eggsy struggled to find a word for what Harry was. “My mentor, I guess you could call him. Passed on the day before you and me met, actually.” Tilde leaned out of the bathroom.

“Oh, Eggsy, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.” 

“Ah, don’t worry about it. Just… tough to move his stuff around, yeah? Still doesn’t totally feel like mine.”

“That explains the dead dog.” Eggsy laughed.

“He was a bit mental, Harry was.”

“You must have really cared for him, to keep all of this around.” Eggsy carried a few of his things into the bathroom, already accustomed to sharing the space with her after their whirlwind week of courting.

“I did,” he said softly. “He was, uh… I mean, I didn’t know him for long, but he weren’t… he weren’t nothing.”

Tilde scrutinized him in the mirror as she put her earrings in. She seemed to understand what he wasn’t saying out loud. She turned and kissed him on the cheek.

“You’ll have to tell me about him next time I’m in town.”

“I can do that.” Eggsy smiled. “I’ve got to get to the shop, but stay as long as you need. JB shouldn’t bug you too much, I’ve already fed him. And please apologize to your security for me.” Eggsy gave her a last long, lingering kiss.

“Until next time, Secret Agent Man.”

\----

Tilde became a regular face in Eggsy’s life after that. She came to London to see him as often as she could, and slowly little bits of her life came with her. She took up an office in London. She mentioned one day that his sheets were very old and brought soft, white cotton ones with her on her next visit. At first she had a drawer in Eggsy’s dresser and a little overnight bag, then she had half of the bathroom counter and half of the closet. Soon she was splitting her time equally between the royal palace and Eggsy’s house. Eventually he was offered a secret service contingency, which he politely declined, trying very hard not to laugh. 

Life continued on for both of them, each busy shaping world events in their own ways. They shared as much as they could with each other, and Eggsy probably shared too much the day he told her about Harry. How they met, how Harry had known his father. How he almost hadn’t been a Kingsman. How he’d watched Harry die in real time. How he’d spent the evening in this very house the day before, how after a long night of Harry’s stories and martinis, they had stood just a little too close for a little too long, something that had left Eggsy wondering what could have been. She listened to every word, fingers in his hair as he hesitated through the story, worried he would say something to scare her away. Nothing ever seemed to scare Tilde away, not the gun he wore or the stories he told or the mourning flame he held for a man twice his age who died in a church parking lot in Kentucky.

“She’s lovely,” Michelle said fondly, walking out of Heathrow with Eggsy and Daisy. They’d just been to lunch before her flight took off, where she and Tilde had spoken at length about Eggsy’s “adorable” bad habits (much to his chagrin) and Daisy had taken an immediate liking to Tilde, insisting on doing a crude braid in her hair before she left. (“Remember, Dais, got to be gentle” Eggsy had reminded her with a quick kiss on the forehead.)

“She really is,” Eggsy said earnestly. “And I’m glad you think so.” Michelle cocked an eyebrow at him. “I’m meeting her parents next week, and I’m gonna ask her father for her hand.”

She gave him a wide smile.

“‘Ask her father for her hand’, listen to you.” Her voice was thick in that way it got when she was trying not to cry. “Proper gentleman you’ve become. Oh, she’s going to be so surprised.”

“Oh, she already knows,” Eggsy grinned. “I asked her first.”

“Eggsy!”

“What! I knew you’d like her. Besides, I can only be SO traditional.”

\---

Dinner with Tilde’s parents went appallingly, but he didn’t have much time to worry about that. With headquarters blown, Arthur dead, and Roxy missing, he barely had time to think about his rocky first impression.

He called Tilde on the plane to let her know he was alive, and promised to get home to her safely. With everything of their home in ashes, it was hard to say and believe, but he said it anyway.

And then.

Oh, and then.

Eggsy dialed Tilde in a daze from a payphone, listening to the ringing in a detached sort of way.

“Hello?”

“Babe, it’s me.”

“Eggsy, thank God. Are you alright? Is it over?”

“No, it’s… there’s a lot going on, and I can’t say much.” The words got stuck in his throat, but he swallowed and pressed on. “Tilde, Harry’s alive.”

The line went silent.

“How? You said he was shot in the head…”

“I know. He’s down an eye and his nerves are shot, but he’s alive.”

“Eggsy… are you alright?”

“I’ve no idea what I am,” he says sincerely, laughing a little hysterically. “I wanted to tell you because you’re the only person who…” he couldn’t finish the sentence, but he knew she knew what he was saying. He heard Tilde exhale heavily over the phone.

“Finish things there and come home safely with him. Whatever comes next, we will figure it out together.” Eggsy nodded. “No matter what it is, we will figure it out together.”

Eggsy exhaled shakily.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Go and save the world.”


End file.
